


The Forgotten

by maq_moon



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Gen, Jupiter Ascending Fic Challenge, Secondary Heir, Star Wars References, Story within a Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5664592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maq_moon/pseuds/maq_moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I received an FTL yesterday from someone I'd never heard of. It offered condolences for my loss. No one had said the name of the deceased, and I dearly wished they had, for I had forgotten his name. I did, however, remember the story that took away his name and the woman who told it. </p>
<p>Seraphi tells her children the tale of some old friends with unexpected repercussions.<br/>FYJA- Star Wars</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, not *technically* a crossover, but it's got a tooooon of Star Wars stuff in it, and no spoilers for TFA.

The Forgotten

               

                I received an FTL yesterday from someone I'd never heard of. It offered condolences for my loss. My loss? What had I lost? I immediately had Maledictes look into all of my holdings and business assets. Then another FTL came, and another, and another, all saying they were tremendously sorry for my loss and did I need anything in my time of grief? Grief? I've been perfectly content recently. One of my brothers is on trial and the other is incapacitated. I'm essentially ruling the universe. Maledictes found something, though. Abrasax Industries was thriving and everything was going swimmingly on the business end of things, but he traced the ping of the first FTL. It was from an academy: a Jedi Academy. My stomach did cartwheels. No one had said the name of the deceased, and I dearly wished they had, for I had forgotten his name. I did, however, remember the story that took away his name and the woman who told it.

                Not so very long ago in a galaxy I had never seen, a princess had been captured by an Empire that fought a Republic. I understood 'princess', as I was one myself, and 'Empire' was easily explained, but I had difficulty grasping the concept of a 'Republic'. Mother explained it time and again, patiently the first few times. Eventually she tired of my questions and either ignored them or snapped at me; if I wanted her to tell me the story _again_ , I would have to be quiet. So I closed my mouth and listened to the princess's adventures, unanswered queries stuck just behind my teeth.

                I loved hearing about Princess Leia. I loved that she didn't just let the men save her. I loved how clever she was. I loved her mother, too. My own mother spoke of her fondly; she and the queen of Naboo had been friends (if anyone could truly call Mother friend). The queen and the princess used weapons and subterfuge alike. I wanted to be like them when I grew up. Mother, naturally, didn't approve of this sentiment. A noble's weapon was their tongue, not a gun, she said severely. Always hire someone else to do the dirty work and never let it be traced back to you. Princess Leia didn't follow these rules, and look where that got her: watching Alderaan get blown to bits.

                My brothers didn't love the story quite so much as I did. Owen put off Balem from the start. He felt that he should have let Luke leave. I remember once he lauded Anakin's actions, when he slaughtered his mother's murderers or slavers or somesuch (I never cared for him unless Queen Padme was around and paid less attention to those parts). Mother praised his loyalty to family but scolded him in the same breath. "I wouldn't want you to murder for me," she said sternly. Balem never listened to the story again.

                Titus was interested in the battles, but Mother didn't know those details as well. She knew who had fought whom. Qui-Gon fought Darth Maul and lost. Obi-Wan fought Darth Maul and won. Yoda beat essentially everyone. Obi-Wan fought Anakin and won, then again and lost (but somehow still won? I've never understood that bit). Mother had encountered so many of these people. Sometimes she looked sad when she spoke. Titus wanted a blow-by-blow account of each encounter. Who struck first? Did Vader parry? Did Obi-Wan feint? "My friend's children escaped safely. That's all that matters." She gave him a look of such disgust that he left the room.

                I lay my head on her lap and looked at my littlest brother. His name- how could I have forgotten his name? Divrik.

                He loved the Force. What was the Force? Was it real? It was a sort of warrior religion, Mother said, and her friend Queen Padme believed in it. He loved that Han Solo and Luke Skywalker were friends despite their different beliefs about it. The first time Mother told him the story, he absolutely marveled when Han told Luke, "May the Force be with you." His chocolate brown eyes lit up. As he got older, he began to see this as proof that 'irreconcilable differences' could not exist.

                Finally, one day, he asked Mother a question I had never dared. How had her friend died? More specifically, why would she _let_ her friend die? In this infuriating manner he had, he wasn't accusatory at all. Mother slapped him nonetheless. As tears gathered in her eyes, she said, "Obi-Wan told me she died of a broken heart. I never thought him a liar; maybe he believed it. It was the day she gave birth... I don't know why she didn't just use a Re-Code. I had given her four or five. She was the type of woman who would want to hold her children, so I don't know why she didn't just _use them_. Now leave me, both of you." Divrik tried to apologize; she threw a vase at him.

                "You shouldn't have done that," I told him, voice tight. Mother would be in a state for weeks.

                "I had to know," he said.

                "Why?" I asked, rounding on him. "You had to know it would upset her."

                "No, Kalique. I had to _see_ if it upset her."

                "What are you talking about?"

                "I needed to know she was human. What she does to people- what Abrasax Industries does to people- is wrong. And if she's human, she'll understand what I have to do." Divrik looked completely confident and righteous. It scared me.

                "What are you going to do?" To my shame, my voice faltered.

                "I'm going to talk to her when she calms down. I'll tell you the good news after." He kissed me on the cheek and strolled away, whistling.

                I heard the shouting from the other side of the alcazar. His voice, her voice, a door slammed. I rushed to Divrik's room, afraid that he had done something stupid. Oh, his stupidity had been beyond measure.

                He was disheveled, throwing shoes and clothes into a small travel bag. "Don't ask, Kalique."

                "Okay. Tell me."

                He smiled one of those smiles- no malice, just love. "Apparently irreconcilable differences do exist, and I have some with Mother."

                "So?"

                "So I've been demoted."

                "Demoted?"

                "The House of Abrasax no longer has four Primary Heirs," he said matter-of-factly. Still he did not look angry or resentful.

                "Wh... She made you a _Secondary_? She actually did that? You can't inherit a thing! That's not possible. Divrik, what did you _do_?"

                "I assumed she was human," he replied, closing his bag. "I told her what I thought of Harvesting, first of all."

                " _First of all_?" I choked out. "I know you find it... distasteful... but couldn't she keep you on in a different capacity? Something that doesn't involve Harvesting?"

                "Then I told her I wanted to leave for a bit."

                "To do what?"

                "Study," Divrik said, "at a Jedi Academy. They usually only take children, but with RegeneX, I'll have all the time I need."

                "Well, go apologize!" I urged. "Tell her you were joking. Do _something_."

                "I _am_ doing something," he said, the humor finally gone from his eyes. "I thought she'd be proud, you know. All of the stories, all of the Jedi Knights and their allies that she knew... I thought we could have a rapport like Luke and Han. I thought..."

                He was so full of hope, my youngest brother. He had always been the best of us, I think. The sadistic businessman, the sly opportunist, the manipulative actor, and the child full of wonder.

                "Maybe she'll come around," I said, the words unconvincing even to my own ears.

                "This isn't the time for lies, Kalique, especially to ourselves. I don't have any RegeneX of my own, but I know where Titus keeps his stash, so I need to get my hands on it before I head out."

                "Is there anything I can say to keep you from leaving?" I asked. He smiled in response. I sighed. "My RegeneX is infinitely better than Titus's. Let's get you a bunch of mine, and every time you see that dragonfly sigil, you'll be forced to think of me."

                "I'd think of you anyway," he said. I laughed quietly as I led him to my personal store of RegeneX. He took two thirds of it (though I tried to give him more).

                I didn't dare follow him to the hangar. Instead we said our goodbyes in my parlor. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't forget me, sweet boy."

                He kissed the crown of my head. "I promise I won't. You can't forget me, either."

                "Cross my heart."

                But millennia passed with no word from him. We weren't allowed to speak his name or reference him in any way. That included talking about Mother's old friends Queen Padme and Obi-Wan. I remembered the story, though. Just not my brother. Maybe you have to talk about a person every so often or they fade away. Did Mother remember him? Does Titus, who didn't even pay attention to the story? Does Balem, catatonic in the universe's best hospital? Perhaps he's dreaming of Divrik. Perhaps I'm being overly sentimental.

                It's hard to think of him as being dead. He's been gone nearly ten thousand years. How does one mourn someone who has been absent so long? Or should I mourn him at all? Maybe he kept his promise and remembered me. Maybe one sleepless night, not unlike this one, I'll look up and see a faint glow, the ghost of my forgotten brother.

                But the last words he heard from me were a lie.

                I don't deserve that comfort.

**Author's Note:**

> I "invented" the name Divrik. It's from "Divirkis", a neutral Baltic thunder god. Balem & Kalique's names are direct derivatives of gods' and Titus's is an emperor made divine, so I knew I needed a deity's name, but I also wanted to keep it at two syllables. So, yeah.


End file.
